Spying Sort Of
by oppisum
Summary: It wasn't spying if you warned them you might check on them, right? Burt decides make good on a promise to check in on Blaine and Kurt one afternoon, and overhears a conversation that broadens his outlook on life, happiness, and the definition of love.


**Spying… Sort Of**

**Summary: It wasn't spying if you warned them you might check on them, right? Burt decides make good on a promise to check in on Blaine and Kurt one afternoon, and overhears a conversation that broadens his outlook on life, happiness, and the definition of love.**

**A/N: This can almost be considered a sequel to **_**Intuition… Kind Of**_**, but it completely makes sense on its own. Once more, here I go showing my love for Burt. He's one of my absolute favorite characters, and I love thinking about how Klaine might look through his eyes. I think I love him so much because he reminds me of my own supportive parents: trying his best with a constantly opening mind and widening perspective. Actually, some of the things Burt thinks along the way stem from real conversations with my own parents, so it's not just some clueless person making up stuff that a parent in that situation might think. Please excuse me if there are any really misplaced words; I'm dyslexic, and spell-check can't even correct some of my spelling to the right word sometimes. The song is **_**Shadows of the Night **_**by Pat Benatar.**

**As usual, reviews, even negative ones (as long as they suggest a way to improve) are amazing!**

**And finally, THANK YOU so much to everyone who reviewed or favorite **_**Intuition**_**!**

**Once more, I own nothing.**

Spying… Sort Of

Crackle

Crackle Crackle

The Hummel-Hudson house was unnaturally quiet apart from the disgruntled complaints of the much abused newspaper Burt Hummel rifled through in search of the sports section. This unnerved Burt. Sure, the one-third-open-door rule was in place, but he still didn't like it when Kurt and his far-too-charming boyfriend were this quiet.

No blaring musicals.

No heated discussions about the latest issue of Vogue.

No _Teenage Dream _being sung at the top of their lungs.

Nothing.

Just that calm silence that rather than reassuring Burt, made him positively edgy. He didn't trust Blaine, not with being alone romantically with Kurt, at least. It wasn't that he didn't like Blain – grudgingly, he had to admit that he was actually quite fond of the guy - but that he wouldn't fully trust _anyone_ his son. Not romantically. He remembered being a teenage boy far too well for that.

Burt tried to focus on yet another article about how the NFL players wouldn't just settle with their owners. The thought of a shortened season because of greedy squabbles just irritated him even more.

He stood abruptly, no longer able to take it. The silence was getting awkward, even if it was just him in the kitchen. Burt found himself walking towards the stairs much quieter than he normally would. He _had _warned the boys that he might come to check on them – just to keep them on their toes, – but he hadn't really intended to make good on that threat unless he actually needed to go upstairs for something. And yet here he was, climbing the stairs like a poorly trained ninja. It wasn't spying if you warned them you might check in, right?

Then again, even a poorly trained ninja might be stealthier than him. Kurt told him on a regular basis that he climbed stairs with all the finesse of a lumbering elephant and to try to avoid doing so in the middle of the night if at all possible. As he put it once, "Finn may sleep like a deaf bear in hibernation, but even _he_ might have trouble sleeping through all the noise you make."

When he got to Kurt's door he saw that the pair had indeed obeyed the one-third open rule. He contemplated his method of 'checking in'. He didn't want to disturb him if they weren't doing anything wrong. 'Wrong' in his book amounted to having sex or something along that line. He knew it was almost inevitable eventually, but he would prefer that it wasn't in his house. There was just something was too strange about the thought of his child – or Finn, who was also his now - having sex when he was anywhere within a ten mile range, much less under the same roof. He honestly didn't think that would be happening any time soon – Blaine seemed to respect Kurt way too much for that – but the abnormal silence was still getting to him. He decided that the best method to 'check in' was to see but not be seen. Trouble was, Burt couldn't see them unless they saw him.

That's when he saw it, a small mirror hanging just opposite the open door. If he stood just right he could see a reflection of the room opposite. Come to think of it, there was an almost identical mirror outside of Finn's room. Huh. He'd have to remember to thank Carol for that snippet of ingenuity.

Burt felt his pulse quicken when he saw that Blaine and Kurt were lying on the bed. After a second, though, he realized that that was all they were doing, just lying there – on top of the covers at that. The sheets weren't excessively rumpled, and what he could see of Kurt's hair was still cemented in place. Kurt lay on his side with his back to the door, Blaine's left arm wrapped securely around his waist and his right under Kurt's head. His head rested against Blain's chest, his fist clutching the front of the older boy's shirt.

That wasn't what caught his attention, though. Blaine was staring at the apparently sleeping Kurt with a look of pure adoration on his face. It was a look that every person had dreamed of being given at some point or another, a look that said so much more than words ever could.

For the first time Burt realized that he room wasn't silent. Blain sung a low song, barely even audible over the whirr of the air conditioner.

"_We're running with the Shadows Of The Night  
>So baby take my hand, it'll be all right<br>Surrender all your dreams to me tonight  
>They'll come true in the end<br>You said - oh girl, it's a cold world  
>When you keep it all to yourself<br>I said you can't hide on the inside  
>All the pain you've ever felt<br>Run to my heart, but baby don't look back  
>Cause we got nobody else"<em>

Burt recognized the song; it was lower and a lot slower than he was used to, but he still recognized it. He might be devoted to his Mellencamp collection, but no one who lived through the eighties could forget Pat Benatar and that voice of hers.

"_We're running with the Shadows of the Night  
>So baby take my hand, it'll be all right<br>Surrender all your dreams to me tonight  
>They'll come true in the end"<em>

As he sung, Blaine gently stroked Kurt's hair. He slowed the movement for a second before letting his hand trace over Kurt's jaw line.

"_You know that sometimes, it feels like  
>It's all moving way too fast<br>Use every alibi and words you deny  
>That love ain't meant to last<br>You can cry tough baby, it's all right  
>You can let me down easy, but not tonight"<em>

Burt had never understood the whole show choir thing, but he was thankful for it, for the friends, confidence, and support it gave Kurt. He did, however, understand the scene that was playing out before him. He wasn't blind; he could see how Blaine was looking at his son: like he was the most amazing thing Blaine had ever seen and he would give anything to protect him. In that moment, Burt had no doubt that Blaine was exactly what Kurt needed, someone who would make him feel as special as he really was.

"_And now the hands of time are standin' still  
>Midnight angel, won't you say you will"<em>

With a contented sigh, Kurt snuggled, if possible, even closed to Blaine. Even though he was the taller of the two, Kurt had scooted far enough down on the bed that he could tuck his head under Blain's chin.

"_We're running with the Shadows of the Night  
>So baby take my hand, it'll be all right<br>Surrender all your dreams to me tonight  
>They'll come true in the end"<em>

Blaine ended the song, but continued to pet Kurt's hair. "Why'd you stop singing?" Kurt murmured, his head still nestled against Blain's chest.

"I didn't want to risk waking you up by starting a new song."

"I was never actually asleep, you know. Do you really think I would waste my time with you by sleeping?"

Blaine didn't answer. He lifted Kurt's chin to force him to make eye contact. "What?" Kurt asked, blushing furiously at the look Blaine was giving him.

Craning his neck and standing on tiptoe, Burt tried to get a better view into the room. If he squinted, he could see Kurt's reflection in the vanity mirror.

"You really are beautiful, you know that?" Blaine whispered.

Kurt shifted awkwardly. "Just because you're my boyfriend, that doesn't mean you have to flatter me." He paused to give a lopsided smirk. "Well, not this much, at least."

"I'm not trying to flatter you, Kurt. I really do think you're beautiful," He placed a chaste kiss on Kurt's lips. "And handsome," Another kiss. "And all-around gorgeous."

The kiss that followed the last statement was longer than the previous ones but still just as sweet. Burt never, NEVER thought he would think this about two guys kissing, but they were actually a really, for lack of a better word… cute. There was something more than puppy love between them, something that, if he had to guess, came from the hardship they had both endured from such a young age. Shaking his head, he resisted a snort of laughter: Heck of a time for him to get philosophical.

"You really think so?" Kurt asked, pulling away.

"I know so. Kurt…" Blaine made a point of holding Kurt's gaze. "I thought you were beautiful even when we were just friends – from the moment we met, actually."

"I thought you said you didn't think of me this way when we first met?"

"I didn't. You know how it is; you can think someone is beautiful without…" Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Without realizing that you're going to fall in love with them one day."

It was a good thing Kurt gasped so loud, or the boys probably would have heard the choking noise Burt made just outside the door.

"I… I think I love you, Kurt." Blaine shook his head before saying, "No, that's a lie." Kurt's face fell visibly. "I know I love you."

Ms. Pillsbury's eye would look small compared the Kurt's at that moment. Suddenly afraid putting Kurt in an uncomfortable spot, Blaine began to backtrack. "You don't have to say it back yet, I know we haven't been dating very long, and I kinda' sprung this on you."

"Are you kidding?" said Kurt abruptly, cutting off whatever speech Blaine might have prepared. Burt was only just able to hear him when he continued softly, "I love you too," and then even quieter, "I would be crazy not to."

Kurt leaned in to kiss the curly haired boy sweetly.

For the first time Burt realized that somewhere in the deep, dark, cobweb-covered recesses of his mind he'd always had his doubts about how love would work for Kure. Sure, he knew his son would find love eventually, but if he was honest with himself, he had always been afraid that it wouldn't be a love as… as… _powerful _as what Burt had always felt for Kurt's mom. Somehow he'd still managed to retain a small fragment of that small-town mentality that somehow straight love and gay love were two completely different beasts. Now, however, he saw that he couldn't have been more wrong. What Kurt had found was obviously just as strong – if not more strong – than what any straight teenager could find.

When Burt tuned back in, he realized that the sweet kiss had turned much less innocent – as in toughs and teeth involved.

Okaaaaaay! Time to head back downstairs. They may not be doing anything wrong, but that still didn't mean Burt wanted to sit and watch his son have a make out session with his boyfriend. He may be getting more accepting and open-minded and all of that, but some things were just crossing the line of what he wanted to see as a parent. He began to make his way back down the hall as silently as possible.

The boys must have managed to disentangle themselves, because Burt could hear the cheeky smile in Blaine's voice as he said, "So, does that mean you'd be willing to watch _Harry Potter _with me again?"

"You're such a dork!" The clear thump of a pillow making contact with a head.

"Aww, but you love me anyhow!" Another Pillow thump.

Suddenly, Burt missed the quiet of his afternoon...

**Thanks for reading!**

**Oh, and I dedicate this story to the best friend ever who knew everything six months before I worked up the courage to tell her and patiently waited for me to catch up. You know who you are and what I'm talking about.**


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